PENNY WOKE UP congested and coughing the next morning, a shell of her bouncy self.
Ella sent a silent apology to Grandpa Harlan. She suspected there’d be little cause to sing today.
She administered child-strength cold medicine and thought about Noah, purely in a he’s-a-doctor-and-I’m-a-worried-mother sense. Would he and his mournful eyes be at the Bent Nickel this morning?
She could deny it all she wanted to, but there was something about Noah that made her want to sit in an easy chair and study him in a way that would peel back those layers and reveal why he’d been hurt, why he wore those gloves and why she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
There were no shrieking kids sledding outside their window this morning. When Ella spared a look outside she saw why. Another several feet of snow had fallen, piling up alongside the inn to the porch railing, which must have been six feet off the ground.
She carried Penny downstairs along with their jackets and gloves. They’d left their snow boots at the front door. Her little darling was hot in her arms.
Gabby sat at the hotel’s front desk with a laptop open. Her pale red hair was in a messy bun at the back of her neck. “Dad’s out shoveling, despite me telling him it’s a lost cause. There’s a blizzard coming later today.”
Ella appreciated Mitch’s efforts more than his daughter did. “I was hoping to get to the Bent Nickel for some soup for Penny.” Her daughter’s forehead felt warm. “And to see the doctor.”
“If Dad doesn’t get the walk cleared, we have ramen noodles and food stocked in the freezer.” Gabby gestured toward the back.
The door to Mitch and Gabby’s living quarters was open. Ella could see a Peg-Board mounted on the wall inside the doorway. It was covered with keys, and not the keys attached to wooden keychains with room names on them. Those were house keys.
“That’s a lot of keys,” Ella noted, as she set down Penny and put on her jacket.
“Dad can unlock nearly every building in town.” Gabby shrugged, not taking her eyes from the laptop screen. “I guess that’s something mayors of small towns do.”
Ella didn’t think so. If Mitch had the keys to everything, why hadn’t he offered to give them a tour of the town when the snow had cleared? “What are you studying?”
“Latitude and longitude.” Gabby heaved a put-upon sigh perfected by generations of teenagers. “Why do I need to know that when I have GPS on my phone?”
“GPS is based on latitude and longitude.” Ella put Penny into her snow boots.
“Huh.” Gabby maneuvered the computer mouse, sliding and clicking urgently. “I wonder if that will earn me extra points on my homework. It’s due this morning. I always take the most allowable time to max out my grade.”
“Ahh.” She was an overachiever. “What kind of grade did your history paper on Second Chance earn?”
“An A.” She flashed her braces in a smile. “But Mr. Garland’s an easy grader.”
“Or you’re a good student.” Ella put on her snow boots next. “I was serious when I said I’d like to read your report. Can you print it out for me?”
“I’ll give you my graded copy if you promise to return it.” She hopped off the stool behind the desk and disappeared into the back room. She returned quickly with a thick, stapled sheaf of papers. “I could have done a better job of footnoting.”
“I won’t judge.” Ella held out her hand, more excited than she ought to be. More than anything, she wanted to be helpful to the Monroes. Besides, new information about Second Chance might make Shane less stressed and make him see fewer conspiracies.
“I couldn’t go into depth about the town’s recent history.” Gabby held on to her report with both hands. “No one seemed to know much about your grandfather.”
“Grandfather-in-law.” Ella lowered her empty hand so as not to appear rude. “Was there a page limit?”
Gabby nodded, looking relieved. “It’s not my best work.”
“But it did earn you an A,” Ella said kindly, suspecting Gabby might be something of a perfectionist. “I’m not going to judge you or the report. I’m interested in the history and character of the town. I promise.”
“Okay.” The girl handed it over.
Ella tucked the report into her diaper bag, lifted a bundled Penny and carried her out the door, where it was windy and cold. And loud. Mitch was using a small snowblower and had nearly cleared the walk to the Bent Nickel. But the snow was coming down fast. It wouldn’t be long before his efforts were for naught.
Ella darted inside the Bent Nickel as soon as Mitch moved beyond the door, grateful to be out of the cold. She set down Penny in their usual booth, removed their jackets and greeted Ivy. “Do you have any broth? Anything warm and steamy to help clear out Penny’s nasal passages?”
“Oh, that poor dear. I have chicken noodle soup.” Ivy banged around the kitchen cupboards. “Do you want another salad for breakfast?”
“Sure.” Ella poured herself a cup of coffee. “What’s the forecast for today?”
“Whiteout conditions. Best let me send you back to the inn with soup and sandwiches for later.”
“That sounds like a plan.” Ella slid into the booth next to Penny and drew her into her lap.
Penny wheezed with each breath.
“We’re going to have to see the doctor today.” She raised her voice and asked, “Is Noah coming in for coffee soon?”
“He doesn’t usually come in until the afternoon, but I wouldn’t expect him today. It’s blowing something fierce. Mitch probably wouldn’t have cleared the walk if you weren’t here.”
Ella glanced out the window. The snow was so thick, she couldn’t see the buildings across the road, including Noah’s cabin. With weather like this, how was she going to evaluate anything?
Penny slid down to lie across the bench seat, her head in Ella’s lap.
While they waited for food, Ella took out Gabby’s report. She was still reading it when Laurel joined her, shedding her black leather jacket—which couldn’t be warm enough—and revealing a pale pink turtleneck beneath a baggy black tunic sweater. She hadn’t put on a cap or a scarf. Her long red hair was windblown and her cheeks chafed from the cold.
Laurel tapped a picture in the report. “What a beautiful wedding dress. Whose is it?”
“Ruth Blickenderfer’s from 1919. According to Gabby’s report, she married Henri Blickenderfer and became town mayor a decade later.” Ella flipped back a page and turned the report so Laurel could see. “Her father built a mercantile out of clay bricks next to the fur-trading post. You’d like the mercantile. They sold handwoven blankets and bolts of fabric.” She flipped to another picture.
In the photo, the double doors to the mercantile were flung open and some of the goods inside could be seen.
Laurel leaned forward. “Look at the stacks of denim. That must have been when brands like Levi’s were becoming popular.”
“Is that what they are? Jeans?” Ella turned the photo sideways. “Honestly, the cans of food caught my eye, but this weather makes me think about stocking up.” And cleaning her plate.
“It’s across from the inn? Do you think anything is left behind in there?” Laurel looked almost as interested in the mercantile as she’d been in the reclusive Odette’s quilt.
“I don’t know.” But Ella knew where to find the key, vowing to go inside as soon as the weather allowed.
“What else does it say?” Laurel seemed genuinely interested. “Anything to help you?”
“No.” Sadly. It was a sixth-grade report, after all. “The valley was originally a summer hunting ground for the Shoshone. There was a hot spring behind the trading post, which was where traders could buy a hot bath.”
“I always feel better after a hot bath.” Laurel shuddered and put her coat back on.
Ella flipped a page. “And then someone marketed the hot springs as a place of healing.”
“That’s the reason the brothel closed.” Roy stomped snow from his boots at the door and then approached their table. He looked as if he wore the same blue coveralls and old long johns he’d had on the day they’d arrived. “They needed rooms for the tourists.”
Ivy appeared with a salad and a bowl of soup. “That’s all hearsay.”
“It’s the truth the way my grandfather remembered it.” Roy put his nose in the air.
“Soup sounds heavenly, even if it is breakfast.” Laurel glanced up at Ivy. “Is there any more? And hot water for tea?”
“Coming right up.” Ivy hummed happily as she hurried back to the kitchen.
“Roy, did you grow up here?” Ella brought Penny to sit in her lap and crumbled some crackers in her soup.
“I did, along with several others, like Odette and Percy Clark. Takes a special kind of person to be happy in Second Chance through all its seasons.” He pulled up a chair. “Winter here is invigorating.”
Ella thought invigorating was a kind word. “I generally complain about the cold.”
“There’s a positive side to everything,” Roy said. “The smooth beauty of the snow as you look across the valley. I could look at it all day.”
“He means he could nap in front of his window facing the valley.” Ivy set a bowl of soup, some hot water and a mug in front of Laurel. The diner owner scattered more cracker packets across the table.
“As the town handyman, I resent that remark.” Roy’s bushy white eyebrows made a landing over his eyes. “I’m on call, just like the doc. Never left anyone waiting. Arrive prompt is my motto. I didn’t see you complaining when I came over and snaked your kitchen sink on a moment’s notice, Ivy.”
“That was last spring.” Ivy patted his shoulder. “And I appreciated it. But now it’s winter, the passes are closed and it’s officially Roy’s napping season.”
The old man harrumphed as Ivy returned to the kitchen.
“How long will we be snowed in?” Laurel asked, steeping her tea.
“You’re asking us to be Mother Nature’s mind readers.” Roy winced. “The passes are a good twenty-five hundred feet above us. If we get three feet of snow, they get six. These high peaks around us trap the weather here and when the snow gets higher than ten feet, you can bet it’s going to take the state a long time to work their way up from their side of the mountains with their snowplows.”
“Don’t scare them, Roy.” Ivy banged pots in the kitchen. “It’s usually a few days at a time. Never longer than a week.”
“A week?” Ella was suddenly ravenous. “What happens if you run out of food?”
“We all have deep freezers and deep pantries.” Roy sat back in his chair and preened. “Life up here takes a bit of planning.”
“Roy?” Ella tilted her head to look at him over Penny’s curls. “Where do you live?”
“Across the road.” He waved as if it was no big deal. “Next to Doc.”
“But…the drifts are so deep.” Ella looked out the window at a world thick with falling flakes. “How did you get across?”
“I shovel a path across the road just about every day.” He pointed toward the highway. “That way, it won’t matter if three feet falls because I’m only shoveling three feet, not the full six, eight or twelve.”
“Twelve?” Laurel wrapped herself tighter in her leather jacket. “I’m from LA I don’t do snow.”
“You’ll get used to it.” Roy stood and went to grab a cup of coffee. “If we want to get somewhere after a blizzard like this, we get out our snowshoes or our snowmobiles.”
“Or we go home.” Laurel gave Ella a significant nod. “I’m not cut out for life in the snow. Let me know how I can help, Ella.”
“Other than operating a snowplow, there’s not much you can do.” Ella needed a change of subject. “Laurel, have you thought about what you’ll do now that you aren’t working for Monroe Studios?”
“I run a celebrity stylist business on the side. I suppose I’ll do that full-time. I’m kind of grateful. Working all day on movie shoots while networking on breaks and at night to find fashions for celebs—like Ashley—to wear to a premiere or special event was exhausting.” Laurel stirred her soup. “I’m like Roy. I’ve been taking advantage of the break and catching up on sleep.” She stopped stirring, forehead creasing. “But the future…” Laurel searched Ella’s face. “Who am I kidding? I mostly style Ashley and she’s not talking to me right now.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Fighting makes me sick to my stomach.” Laurel stared at her soup. “It’s good to get away and have some breathing room.”
“Is that what this is?” Ella asked softly. “Will the family even survive this?”
“You’ll see, it’ll blow over and we’ll all be one big happy family again.” Laurel dipped her spoon into the soup and blew on it, adding with much less confidence, “Someday.”
“Mom.” Penny squirmed in Ella’s lap. “Want potty.”
Ella had been gently introducing the concept of using the toilet. Penny asking for the potty was the best news of the morning. Ella hurried to take her daughter to the restrooms.
Roy had told her about a way across the highway, through the snow, to reach Noah if need be. Laurel, like Sophie, reaffirmed that Ella was a Monroe. And now Penny was asking to use the potty.
Maybe this was going to be a singing day after all.
Are you ready, Hezzie?